


Clan Lavellan

by ElfrootAddict



Series: Halla & Wolf [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Clan Lavellan - Freeform, Dalish, Free Marches, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfrootAddict/pseuds/ElfrootAddict
Summary: As Keeper Deshanna’s First, El'lana Aemma Lavellan is sent on her first diplomatic mission, which lies far beyond the familiarity of the Free Marches and her clan. The only home she has ever known.
Relationships: El'lana Aemma Lavellan/ Keeper Deshanna, El'lana Aemma Lavellan/ Lhoris Soros Lavellan, El'lana Aemma Lavellan/ Tamara Elohra Yevven Lavellan
Series: Halla & Wolf [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828126
Kudos: 5





	1. Clan Lavellan

“ _Ahhh! By the dread wolf!_ ”

Keeper Deshanna quietly observes Lana, her temperamental First, explode into her infamous fit of rage; cursing, face blood-red, arms thrashing about wildly and kicking whatever is closest to her feet. Today’s victim: tree-roots.

Stopping to catch her breath, Lana looks towards the beaten earth before her. She failed. Again.

Keeper Deshanna calls after Lana in a calm, firm voice, “Try it again, da’len.”

Lana growls through her rapid breathing and whips her head towards the Keeper. Her frown scrunched up, and her face flustered and damp. Her silver, shoulder length hair sticking to the side of her face, and wrapping around her neck. 

Unaffected, Keeper Deshanna slowly walks closer, “Always so quick-tempered, _mir da’vhenan_ ,” using her staff to support her. “Remember to use your energy towards accessing the Fade, instead of giving it to your emotions. Your _emotions_ only-”

“Draw from you. _I know!_ ”

Lana’s outburst doesn’t affect the Keeper in the slightest. The Keeper has been subject to it ever since Lana was five years of age. However, Lana quickly realises the Keeper doesn’t deserve her anger and composes herself. 

Releasing a loud, audible sigh, Lana closes her eyes and tilts her head up,“Ir abelas,” and turns to the Keeper with desperation. “It’s just so frustrating! Why can’t I get this? I’ve been practising for a month now and I can only control a few roots.”

Keeper Deshanna lets out an unexpected chuckle towards her ever-impatient apprentice, “Lana, it took me _months_ before I mastered this spell. It is one of the most powerful spells a Keeper will know. Summoning the roots of the forest to your bend at will is powerful magic. It is not something one rushes or learns hastily. You must be responsible with this kind of magic and show it even greater respect,”

Lana turns to look at the ragged and torn forest floor in front of her and begins feeling calmer after the Keeper’s infallible wisdom.

The Keeper continues, “Take a deep breath, in through the nose and out the mouth, and try it again,” stepping further back. “Remember, do not give in to your emotions, da’len. They only distract you from your ability to draw from the Fade. Find your connection to the forest. Feel its energy flowing all around you and use it to your advantage.”

Taking the Keeper’s words to heart, Lana decides to try again and brings her staff out in front of her, holding it steady with both hands. She closes her eyes and tries her best to control her emotions by taking long, deep breaths. In through the nose and out the mouth.

_In……… Out……… In……… Out……… In……… Out………_

With her emotions now significantly more at peace, Lana focuses her mind around her aura as she connects with the Fade. 

As she naturally draws from the Fade, the tip of her staff starts to radiate with a green, earthy-toned energy and Lana transcends that power from her staff to flow throughout her entire body. 

And just as she has practised perfecting over the last month, Lana easily pushes that power to her fingers and stabilises it as it builds up between her hands. 

Lana patiently watches the magic build as it swirls around her, feeling it brush against her arms with its cool touch. But, only for a moment. 

The enchantment begins fighting against Lana’s control as it builds to significant pressure. With her arms trembling, Lana tries to contain the magic by adjusting her stance, twisting her hands around and focusing her mind on the powerful magic within her grasp. 

Until now, Lana has been too afraid for the pressure to build any further. For the fear of losing control. And therefore, Lana would always release the enchantment too soon, resulting in failure. But now, she knows she needs to be more bold. 

_“Your emotions only draw from you.”_

The spell has reached the point where Lana would normally release, but she decides to hold on for longer. Beads of sweat begin dripping down her face as she forces her stance, her body trembling and shaking as she strains all her muscles to hold her position. Her arms begin to feel as if they are about to give out at any moment. If she lost control now, the magic would most likely explode and fling Lana back several meters. Which would not be ideal.

The enchantment begins vibrating and pulsing violently in Lana’s grasp as it reaches a volatile level of pressure. Simultaneously, Lana begins sensing she is reaching the climax of her control over the spell. Pushing any further than this would be overreaching and dangerous. But, perhaps it would produce a more powerful result?

_“You must be responsible with this kind of magic and show it even greater respect.”_

Lana opens her eyes to the disheveled forest floor before her, and with arms expelling out beside her she releases the enchantment, “ _Alas’nan!_ ” and by digging her heels, and bending her knees more, Lana manages not to fall over upon the explosive release of magical pressure. 

And for what is only a moment, Lana watches her spell ripple through the forest, flailing the loose leaves to dance in the air amongst the magic. With a strong connection and control over the spell, Lana can feel it soak deep into the earth below. 

_“Find your connection to the forest. Feel its energy flowing all around you and use it to your advantage.”_

Lana slowly raises her arms with her staff in one hand, causing the ground to tremble and shake beneath her feet. By manipulating her connection to the Fade, and using the forest’s energy to her advantage, Lana cries out in anguish as she goes from a slow ascension to lunging her hands and staff into the air, causing gigantic tree roots to blast out of the soil. 

Soaring high, the roots almost reach the forest canopy, and Keeper Deshanna gasps in amazement. The resting birds frantically fly away in panic.

For only a fleeting and celebratory moment, Lana’s mana quickly plummets and the roots lose their momentum, causing them to descend rapidly. The forest fills with loud, thunderous bangs and crashes as the lifeless roots slap the ground one by one, landing only a few breaths away from Lana’s feet. 

Keeper Deshanna hurries towards Lana and exclaims with motherly pride, “Yes! Mala dirthara, mir da’vhenan!”

Exhausted after the spell, Lana leans onto her staff to prevent herself from falling over and looks at the Keeper with a wide, proud smile, “Ma melava halani, Keeper,” taking in a deep breath. “Ma serannas.”

Suddenly, a wholly unexpected arrow pierces the ground between them. 

Quickly losing their smiles, the two mages whip their heads around to the arrow’s origin point and the Keeper dispels a protective shield over them both as Lana prepares her stance for a battle.

“Reveal yourself! Ar tu na’din!” demands Lana.

The hidden perpetrator swiftly moves from branch to branch, causing the leaves of the trees to rustle and fall down below. Both mages look above to try and spot their attacker.

Then a childish giggle of amusement and mischief echo through the trees. 

Lana sighs, drops her head and relaxes her stance, “It’s alright Keeper, I know who it is.” and brings her staff to her side. 

Naturally, the Keeper looks to Lana and relaxes too, cancelling out the protective spell with a simple gesture.

Lana shouts to the tree above, “I know it’s you. Len’alas lath’din.”

The tall perpetrator jumps out of his hiding spot, falling several meters below to the lowest branch, and naturally lands lightly on his feet. His vallaslin of Andruil stretches from his wide, proud grin as he looks down at the two, highly annoyed mages below.

Smacking his knee, “You should have _seen_ the look on your faces!” and proceeds to mockingly imitate a series of shocked expressions and gasps. 

Back to her usual elegant poise, Keeper Deshanna retorts, “Lhoris my dear, one day I may _actually_ set you on fire, and what will you do then, hmm? Laugh the flames away?”

“Ah Keeper, you’re too cautious,” Lhoris jumps down to the ground in front of them, pulls the arrow out of the ground and puts his bow away in his quiver. “That’s why we love you.”

Without having removed her eyes off Lhoris, Lana ignites a small flame in the palm of her hand, “Well then, I might as well have a go at it.”

“You may certainly try,” Lhoris leaps towards Lana, causing the flame in her hand to extinguish, and with only inches between them he daringly towers over her. “But I know you would _never_ hurt me.” and taps her nose with the head of his arrow with a cheeky, confident grin.

“Oh?”

Lana drops her staff to charge into Lhoris’s stomach, knocking him off his feet and causing him to drop his arrow as both young elves plummet to the ground. 

“Is that all?” baits Lhoris while trying to fight off Lana. “Even the Keeper can tackle harder than you,” trying to make eye contact with the Keeper. “With all due respect, of course.”

The Keeper waves away at Lhoris, knowing his playful nature, and quietly watches her First and most prestigious hunter act like two children fighting in the dirt over mere insults. 

Lana stabs her fingers in between Lhoris’s ribs and he simultaneously squeals and laughs at Lana’s determination to cause him pain. She is so easy to bait into a fight and Lhoris always enjoys tormenting her. 

Easily double in size and strength, Lhoris manages to get the upper hand and pins Lana down to the ground, rubbing her face into the dirt. Lana cries out in annoyance and thrashes about beneath him, trying to get free.

Refusing to be beaten, Lana draws from the Fade and without too much effort, quickly gains control over one of the fallen roots behind Lhoris. Knowing Lhoris wouldn’t be expecting to defend himself against a tree-root, Lana lunges the root forward, hitting Lhoris hard enough from behind for him to fall over to his side. 

“Fenedhis!” curses Lhoris.

“ _Language._ ” remarks Keeper Deshanna.

Lhoris regards the Keeper with a sheepish smile, “Ir abelas.” and spins back around to focus on Lana.

Lana turns herself back around and wipes the dirt from her face with her arm while holding a mischievous and devilish smirk. 

Her hands begin glowing with the earthly-toned magic from before as she slowly raises her hands up. So too, do the smaller, thinner roots around her.

With the roots standing to attention, ready attack at her command, Lana quips. “Vir assan, Lhoris…” and lunges the roots towards him. 

Lhoris manages to roll out of the way from the immediate attack but not quick enough to escape them completely. A few of the roots grab hold of his ankle and Lana drags him towards her, appearing quite pleased with her new found ability.

Frantically scraping the ground for something to hold onto, Lhoris cries out in panic, “Fenedhis!”

“Language.” cries the Keeper, still observing the scramble.

With a twist of her wrists, Lana wraps another root around Lhoris’s waist, then around his shoulder, then around his mouth and soon his entire body is completely encased in a root-cocoon. Lana stands proudly as she listens to Lhoris’s muffled protests as he awkwardly squirms around in the dirt.

With a gesture, Lana waves the root away from his mouth and Lhoris spits dirt out of his mouth, “I can easily get out of this you know.”

Lana folds her arms across her chest and laughs confidently, “How? Your knife is in its holster and your hands are tied behind your back.”

Lhoris grins with cheeky smile, “Vir bor’assan, lethallan…” 

Lhoris wiggles his hands and fingers out between the roots, and scrambles a hold of just one of the roots, “Got you.” and with an awkward flick and twist of the wrists, Lhoris snaps it, causing a significant chain reaction in the loss of tension around his upper body. His arms begin to loosen enough for him to grab hold of his knife’s handle. With a bit more wiggling, Lhoris manages to free the knife from its holster.

In two swift motions, Lhoris slices through the roots along his side, releasing his entire upper body, and then without hesitation, swiftly slices between his thighs freeing his legs. Lhoris puts his knife back into its holster, and with the same breath, stands to dust himself off by straightening his armour and combing through his brown shoulder length hair. 

Looking slightly less disheveled, and feeling somewhat more dignified, Lhoris takes a deep breath, looks towards the Keeper and cries out with a childish shrill, “She tried to _kill_ me!”

The Keeper subtly shakes her head and laughs, “You and I both know Lana would never try to kill you.” 

“Then what,” turning towards Lana. “In Creators _was that?_ ”

“ _That_ ,” Lana warns. “Is what will happen to you if you shove my face in dirt, again.”

“You poked my ribs!” pouting his lips dramatically and turning to the Keeper for sympathy. “I’m… sensitive.”

Lana rolls her eyes and grins, for the Keeper is right, she would never truly want to hurt him. 

Lhoris Soros Lavellan, one of the clan’s best hunters, is no more a brother to Lana than she is a sister to him. Only three years her senior, Lhoris and Lana grew up together, and it has only ever been platonic between them - despite several rumours amongst their friends during their younger, adolescent years.

Lhoris has always been more daring, while Lana naturally airs on the side of caution. This combination has created fond memories and experiences for them both over the years. Lhoris brings the adventure and Lana ensures they do not die in the process. 

Keeper Deshanna walks over, sighing with affection, and places one hand on Lhoris’s shoulder, “Alright you two, go wash up. You both appear as if you’ve been dragged through the woods,” looking at Lana. “Literally,” Lana frantically wipes away at her face and tries to comb through her disheveled hair as the Keeper drops her hand and turns around. “I’m heading back to camp. Don’t take too long as it will be dark soon.”

Lana and Lhoris concur simultaneously, “Yes, Keeper.” 

Still dusting herself off, Lhoris grabs Lana’s staff and hands it back to her.

Lana stops grooming and takes her staff, “Ma serannas,” and glides it into its holster across her back. “Let’s look for your arrow.” and quickly throws a punch into Lhoris’s shoulder.

After retrieving Lhoris’s arrow, the young elves start heading towards a small stream, which lies in the opposition direction of their camp. 

Walking beside each other, Lhoris looks at Lana quizzically, “So, seriously El, what spell was that? I’ve never seen you do that before.”

Lana smiles proudly, “ _Alas’nan_. It’s one of the hardest spells a Keeper can master,” turning her head up to regard Lhoris. “As you just experienced first hand, I would control the roots of the earth to do my bidding.”

Lhoris nods, “Impressive.”

“Yeah, it is,” looking out towards the forest, “How was hunting these past few days? Catch anything?”

Lhoris gasps at the offensive question, “Did Fen’Harel betray the gods?” spreading his fingers out in front of her face. “ _Five_ winters and counting, El. Five!” dropping his hand and pushing out his chest with a confident grin. “I never come back empty handed.”

Lana raises her hand apologetically and smiles, “Alright, sorry for offending you, _oh-master-hunter_. What did you catch?”

“Rams mostly. However, on the second day we came across a few nugs.”

“Oh no! But they’re so cute!”

Lhoris lifts a finger, “And so delicious.”

They reach the stream, nestled in the quiet ancient forest, and squat down to wash their arms, legs and faces in the cold, fresh water originating from the Free Marcher’s infamous Minater River.

Satisfied with her cleanliness, Lana sits down and watches Lhoris attempt to remove small twigs from his hair and laughs, “Here stupid, let me help.” and swats his hands away to begin pulling out the loose sticks nestled in his hair. 

Lana scrunches her face in disgust, “When was the last time you brushed your hair? It’s like a bird’s nest in here.”

“What?” cries Lhoris in defence. “Tamara usually does it for me.”

Lana rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Creators, you’re so lazy!”

“She says she likes doing it, okay? Although, she does always sneak in a tiny braid and thinks I don’t notice,” Lhoris looks out towards the forest with a soft smile. “I don’t mind though.”

“Done,” Lana releases a tiny shiver before sitting down to join Lhoris. Both friends decidedly look out towards the forest, listening to the birds sing high above and the trees rustle through the gentle breeze.

Eventually, Lhoris looks down at Lana with a smile. “Ma serannas,” and looking back up at the tree canopy above, he takes a deep breath. “I would want to look my best when I ask Tammy to bond with me after all. Figured that would be important, you know?”

Lana whips her head up towards Lhoris with her wide, lavender eyes shimmering with excitement, “Are you serious?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Lana slaps both hands to the sides of her face and gasps. Her face stretches open and her eyes open even wider as she can barely contain her happiness, “Oh, Lhoris! That is _fantastic_ news!” flinging her arms around to embrace him. “You two are going to be so happy!”

Lhoris smiles and wraps his arms around her, “I know,” and quickly stops to grab Lana by the shoulders, pulling her back, and wags a finger in her face. “But you can’t say anything.”

Offended, Lana pulls back even more and cries, “Of course not!”

With a more serious tone, Lhoris reiterates, “Promise?”

Lana relaxes and murmurs with a gentle smile, “Ma nuvenin.” 

Lhoris relaxes as well, letting go of Lana’s shoulders and releases a loud sigh, “Ma serannas,” and turns around. “So, shall we head back?”

**Elvish to English Translation:**

  * _“Mir da’vhenan”_ = My little-heart
  * _“Ir abelas”_ = I’m sorry
  * _“Alas’nan!”_ = Nature’s (earth) Revenge
  * _“Mala dirthara, mir da’vhenan!”_ = You learn/ understand, my little-heart!
  * _“Ma melava halani, Keeper. Ma serannas.”_ = You helped me, Keeper. Thank you.
  * _“Ar tu na’din!”_ = I will kill you
  * _“Len’alas lath’din”_ = Dirty child no one loves
  * _“Fenedhis”_ = Shit
  * _“Vir assan”_ = Way of the Arrow
  * _“Vir Bor’assan”_ = Way of the Bow
  * _“Ma nuvenin”_ = As you say (I promise)




	2. Clan Lavellan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Keeper Deshanna’s First, El'lana Aemma Lavellan is sent on her first diplomatic mission, which lies far beyond the familiarity of the Free Marches and her clan. The only home she has ever known.

Lana and Lhoris’ walk back to camp is quiet and uneventful, which suits Lana just fine. **  
**

Like her mother, she usually finds small talk and those who speak just to fill silence, tiresome. Conversations should be serving a purpose to warrant the effort of talking, otherwise blissful silence will do.

However like her father, should someone speak up with the desire to teach, Lana will always be ready to listen. Learning new facts about almost anything interests her; especially when it comes to the ancient elves, nature, magic and the mind.

With her passion for all things Elvhen, and a keen philosophical mind and strong moral compass, the Keeper declared that if Lana weren’t a mage, she would have encouraged her to become one of their clan’s Hahren. 

Now that Lhoris has announced his desire to bond with Tamara, her closest girlfriend, Lana finds herself remembering the day Rhys did the same.

_~ It was the year before: The beginning of Bloomingtide and around the time when the humans celebrated their Summerday holiday. Rhys had taken Lana out into the forest, insisting they were only looking for elfroot and wild berries, but instead he took her to a secluded cave, long abandoned by whatever used to live there. It’s entrance was partially blocked by a small, quiet flowing waterfall. When they entered, Lana saw it decorated with wildflowers and a few lit candles set into the floor._

_Realising what was about to take place, Lana tried to interject in time but Rhys managed to take her by the face, pulling her in for a passionate kiss and then stopped to ask, “El’lana Aemma Lavellan, will you do me the honour and bond with me?” ~_

Lhoris and Lana eventually reach a clearing and stop just before an edge, and both look down at their home lying ahead. 

Clan Lavellan currently lies near the Minanter River between Tantervale and Starkhaven in the Free Marches. The clan always situates themselves on the borders between states. This will both lessen the risk of humans chasing them away, as it might cause a war with their neighbours. It also gives the clan opportunities to trade amongst more than one human city or town at a time. 

While there are many clans around Thedas that naturally avoid humans, Keeper Deshanna has always been more open minded when it comes to trading amongst the shem. 

While the clan can survive on their own, the Keeper values some crafts made by humans that they can’t easily make themselves. And in return, the humans trade for the clan’s specially crafted items. Such as any work made from ironbark, since only the Dalish yield the ability to craft from it effectively. 

The camp is simple and practical but more importantly, home. Within a large forest clearing, there is the main fire pit with makeshift stools around it. Fanning out from the centre pit, you have a place for the weaponsmith, food stalls, merchant carts, a healers tent and a pen for their halla. 

The halla are always scattered freely amongst the clan during the day and never wonder too far from camp. They understand that the clan protects them and they always come back before dark. 

On the outskirts of the camp are the trees, where the tents lie between the open spaces. Decorating the lower branches hangs daily laundry, drying herbs and cured meats. Scattered amongst some of the tree bases even ly makeshift alters to a specific Elvhen god.

Clan Lavellan consists of only a couple dozen people. The majority of them range between youngsters to older adults, with only a small few being children - who are extremely sacred amongst the Dalish. With so few Dalish elves left, any new born amongst the clan is considered to be a momentous occasion.

Lhoris and Lana jump down the ledge and continue walking towards the camp. 

_~ Lana had pulled away from Rhys’s grip, shaking her head in disbelief, “Ir abelas…” and her eyes started welling up with tears as sorrow gripped her heart._

_Staying silent, Rhys went as white as snow and the look on his face said it all. She had broken his heart and spirit with only two words but she knew, deep down, it had to be done._

_Suddenly, Rhys’s pale, heart-broken face disappeared as it morphed and twisted into a blood-red, full of rage expression instead. His breath turned rapid as he became hostile and aggressive - his typical behaviour when he doesn’t get his way. With fury burning in his eyes, he barked, “How dare you reject me! Because you are First, you think yourself better than me? I am the best you’ll ever find! You ungrateful bitch!” stepping closer with his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. “You will regret the day you turned me down.” and stormed out of the cave. ~_

“Lhoris! Lana!” cries Tamara as she proceeds to run towards them. 

Tamara Elohra Yevven Lavellan is a tiny young woman with mousy facial features and short raven-black hair. Her complexion is significantly paler and lighter in comparison to Lhoris or Lana, and beholds the most strikingly large, emerald green eyes. And to compliment her eyes, Tamara wears an earthy-green vallaslin representing June; God of the Craft.

“Vhenan!” exclaims Lhoris to Tamara, both young lovers embrace each other with affection and once released, Lhoris plants a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

“Where have you two been?” Tamara pleads with concern. “The Keeper came back quite some time ago and I was wondering why you didn’t return with her? The sun has almost set. Even all the halla are back and accounted for!”

Tamara is infamously known for her constant state of worry over others and their well-being. She has a sweet and timid nature, but can be fairly melodramatic at times. 

“No need to worry vhenan,” Lhoris takes her hand and brings it to his lips for a gentle kiss, knowing exactly how to calm her down. “We’re perfectly fine. We were just catching up.”

“Of course.” Tamara releases a quiet, bashful chuckle. “I’m glad you’re both home safely.” 

“When did you get back, Tammy?” asks Lana as all three head further into camp with Lhoris between them, holding Tamara’s hand.

“Not too long ago,” Tamara peers passed Lhoris to look at Lana. “This trip went very well, actually. The weather was kind and so were the shems.”

“That’s great!” exclaims Lana with relief.

Having never left the clan, Lana always gets concerned when Tamara, or anyone else for that matter, leaves the clan to go trade in the nearby towns with the shems. Which luckily is only once a month but it can last several days at a time. 

All three young elves reach the centre of the camp and Lhoris stops to turn around, regarding them both, “I’m going to help the others. The rams aren’t going to remove their skin and spill out their guts for us.”

“Lhoris! Gross!” cries Tamara with her eyes wide with shock, while Lana scrunches her face up with disgust.

Throwing both hands up in protest, “What? How do you think it happens?” and spins around with a cheeky grin. Oh, how he loves tormenting them.

Lana looks adoringly at Tamara as she watching Lhoris walk off, and rolls her eyes as she giggles quietly to herself. 

_I can’t believe how much she loves that man-child._

Tamara turns to Lana and grabs her by the hand, “Come on. I want to show you something.” and leads Lana through the centre of camp and towards their tents amongst the trees. 

On the way, they pass the pen holding the halla and just to the side of the closed gate is a shrine to Ghilan’nain; Mother of the Halla. They both stop running, turn to offer a subtle bow of acknowledgement to the shrine, a practice amongst the Dalish to show respect to their gods, and continue onwards to Tamara’s tent.

Tamara and Lana share their tent with two other women; Brilora a craftswomen, and Lawyn a huntress. Upon entering the tent, it seems both women are still busy with their daily chores. 

The tent is large enough to be split into small equal quarters, and using a thin sheet of fabric between each section, you can also have some privacy. When you spend every living moment in such close proximity to a small group of people, one’s privacy is vital and important to the sanity of the clan.

Tamara leads Lana in but it’s too dark to see, so Lana searches for the candle by Tamara’s bedroll. With the wave of her hand, Lana ignites the wick, filling the tent with enough illumination as they hunch over to Tamara’s bedroll lying on the far left corner of the tent.

Once both are sitting down with their legs crossed and comfortable, Tamara excitedly reveals her surprise, “Look what I traded with a dwarf today,” and turns around to pull something small out from underneath her pillow. 

Resting on the palm of her hand is a small, wrapped parcel using a large leaf as it’s wrapping, and is being held together by a thin string. 

Lana looks up from the object in Tamara’s hand in confusion, “What is it?” 

Tamara giggles and with her eyes widened with excitement, “It’s for you, silly!” and hands it to Lana who cautiously takes the fragilely wrapped item.

“What? Really?”

“Yes, really! Open it! Open it!” Tamara wiggles around from side to side in anticipation and Lana finds her friend’s excitement so contagious that she also begins to wiggle. Both young women are smiling widely and laughing loudly like two carefree children. 

Lana carefully unties the bow and as the tension of the string releases, the leaves fall open, and in the centre lies an elegant ring made from silverite with a tiny purple amethyst adorned in the middle, and a small white diamond fixed on either side. 

Lana gasps and dares not even to touch it in case she somehow breaks it and looks up at Tamara, who is holding her hands to her mouth while smiling proudly. 

“Tamara…” is all Lana manages to say at first. “This is… for _me?_ ”

Ignoring her question and dropping her hands, “This dwarf came by and saw one of our ironbark blades but didn’t have enough coin to pay for it,” Lana slowly reaches for the ring and brings it towards her face for a closer inspection while Tamara continues. “I was expecting to barter with the man when suddenly he pulled out a small bag, opened it up, and showed me so many small jewels, like this one, within. Then he asked if I was willing to trade one of our blades for one of these jewels instead,”

Lana slips the ring on her right middle finger, fitting perfectly, “And so after rummaging around I came across this ring and I just had to make the trade!”

Lana brings her hand up towards her face, spreading her fingers as she admires the most beautiful piece of fine jewellery to ever sit upon her long, slender fingers.

The Keeper continuously reiterates to Lana that material items, such as jewellery, shouldn’t be held with so much esteem. Worldly things are fleeting and bring only temporary happiness. The true pursuit of happiness comes from giving to others and righteousness. However, this time it’s different and what Lana loves about the ring the most, is that it has been given to her by her dearest friend. A friend who has been nothing less than a sister to her ever since they were thirteen years of age. 

Tamara was born in clan Yevven, who also wandered the Free Marches and was familiar enough with the Lavellan clan. Unfortunately, twelve years ago, a rogue Seerabas killed almost everyone in clan Yevven, including Tamara’s parents, and abducted their Keeper. The Seerabas was eventually killed for reasons still unknown to this day. No-one has ever managed to explain the reason for the attack on Tamara’s clan, and why it happened in the first place. 

News had quickly spread amongst the other surrounding clans about clan Yevven’s mass murder. And when Keeper Deshanna and two other Keepers made their way to the site, they quickly realised that those who remained wouldn’t be able to survive on their own. Therefore, the only choice they had was to split them up and shelter the remaining Yevven clanmates in their own clans. 

And the Keeper Deshanna, whose clan was already reasonably full in capacity, could only take on one; Tamara. Since then, Tamara carries the name of both tribes; Yevven and Lavellan. 

“Do you like it?” murmured Tamara looking at Lana nervously.

Lana drops her hand and lunges forward to embrace her friend, “Tammy I love it! I am completely lost for words! Ma serannas.” 

Lana sits back and admires the ring once more, “I’m surprised Jahel allowed you to trade one of our blades for it?” looking up with concern. “He does know? Doesn’t he?”

“There was a… discussion,” Tamara blushes and smiles sheepishly, “How could I _not_ get you something on the day of your birth?”

Lana looks up and only offers a sincere smile.

_Of course, she remembered._

Suddenly the Keeper pops her head into the tent, “We’re ready, Tamara.”

Lana spins around, but before she can ask the Keeper what she means, Tamara grabs Lana by the hand again, “Great! Let’s go!” and hurls Lana off the bedroll.

“Where?”

Tamara, still holding onto Lana’s hand, leads her friend through the other surrounding tents in the forest and out towards the centre of camp. 

Tamara then drops Lana’s hand and runs further ahead to meet Lhoris and the entire clan, who are all standing in front of the main, roaring firepit, “Happy birthday!”

Lana’s jaw drops as only moments ago nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But now all the edges of the benches are decorated with wildflowers, freshly cooked food is layed out on tables and old Dalish music is playing somewhere close by, causing a few to start dancing to its hearty rhythm already. 

“Creators…” murmurs Lana as she is completely floored by the effort put into celebrating her birthday. Her heart is beating so fast with so much love and affection for her people. Her family.

“I told them to keep it simple,” says the Keeper walking up to Lana from behind. “But you know Tamara,” and stops to stand beside Lana smiling proudly. “She had a thousand little ideas, she even wanted me to suspend hundreds of little flowers in the sky, but luckily Lhoris managed to convince her to keep it simple. After all, he couldn’t keep you distracted forever, now could he?”

“Distracted?” Lana turns to the Keeper confused. “What do you mean?”

The Keeper releases a quiet chuckle, “You aren’t the only one between us who can pick out his _ridiculous_ childish laughter, da’len.”

“You _knew_ he would be there?”

“Of course,” the Keeper pauses. “It was my idea.”

Lana gasps with pleasant surprise, “ _Your_ idea? I never knew you had it in you to be so sneaky, Keeper.”

The Keeper eyes Lana with a cheeky smile, “I was also young once. I still remember how to have a bit of fun now and then.”

Lana sees Tamara and Lhoris run over to her, and barks at Lhoris as he reaches ear-shot, “You were trying to distract me!”

Lhoris laughs, “Just figured it out, huh?” and rips into a piece of freshly cooked meat, shearing the skin off the bone. Chomping on it wildly with his infamous lack in table manners.

The Keeper sighs and peers up at Lhoris, “I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself, Lhoris. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to discuss something with Hahren Zelphar,” and takes Lana’s chin in her hand and plants a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Happy birthday, mir da’vhenan.”

Lana smiles sincerely, “Ma serannas, Keeper.”


	3. Clan Lavellan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Keeper Deshanna’s First, El'lana Aemma Lavellan is sent on her first diplomatic mission, which lies far beyond the familiarity of the Free Marches and her clan. The only home she has ever known.

It is well into the evening and the majority of the clan has settled in for the night, with their stomachs full and heads buzzing with ale.

Except for Lana and Tamara, who are still up and keeping themselves warm by the last few logs burning by the main fire-pit. Lhoris on the other hand, is passed out on Tamara’s lap. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looks dead.” quips Lana.

“He hasn’t moved much has he?” adds Tamara with a gentle laugh as she studies Lhoris lovingly.

To pass the time, Lana and Tamara have seized the opportunity to be creative. As Tamara finishes the last of her infamous braids in Lhoris’s hair, Lana carefully completes her atrocious hair-floral arrangement by decorating said braid with wildflowers in between the crossings.

Lana is relishing in the thrill that comes with her shenanigans, and decides to raise the stakes by attempting to insert a flower in Lhoris’s nostril. 

“Oh no, shame!” giggles Tamara as she lightly pats Lana’s hand away.

“Oh, come on!” persists Lana with a mischief grin and beaming, wide eyes, “When will we _ever_ get the chance to mess with him like this again?”

Tamara pauses with a cheeky grin, “Okay! But me, too!”

Excitedly, Lana and Tamara each take a flower and carefully guide its receptacle into one of Lhoris’ nostrils…and with no response, Lana and Tamara high five quietly above Lhoris’s head. 

Mission accomplished.

Suddenly, Lhoris’s eyes snap wide open as he releases a loud, gasping grunt causing both young women to squeal from fright. He perks himself up, whips his head around and finds two red-faced, delinquent elves roaring with laughter.

Finding it surprisingly hard to breathe, Lhoris’s face distorts with confusion as he carefully removes two flowers from his nostrils, “ _What… in the…?_ ”

“Lhrois,” smirks the Keeper, stepping out of the darkness towards the soft light of the fire-pit. The young women moderately cease their laughter as Lhoris spins around to look up at the Keeper. “You should count yourself lucky mirrors can’t talk, and perhaps luckier still that they can’t laugh either.” and settles with a playful, yet judgemental, gaze on his hair.

Immediately catching the Keepers insinuation, Lhoris struggles to frantically comb through his hair full of tiny braids, and with a horror stricken face, watches a seemingly endless cluster of tiny wildflowers litter the ground around him.

Once Lhoris’s dramatic performance has ceased, he spins back around towards Lana and Tamara with revenge, but the Keeper quickly interjects with a more serious tone. “Garas da’lenen. It’s time we all settled in for the evening,” and peers over to regard Lana. “Except for you my dear, I must speak with you first.”

The three exchange quiet, curious glances and slowly stand to their feet. After lightly dusting themselves off, Tamara embraces Lana with a sincere smile, “Happy birthday, mir falon.”

“Ma serannas, Tammy,” murmurs Lana as she hugs Tamara tighter. “This has truly been one of the best days of my life.” and the two young friends release with heartfelt smiles.

Lhoris walks over to Lana with arms stretched out, “Night, El.” and brings her in for an embrace. “I would make a joke about your age, but I feel too bad for how old you are now.”

Lana playfully pushes Lhoris backwards and exclaims with laughter, “I’m only twenty-seven! You’re _three_ years older than me! You’re practically ancient. Soon you won’t even have hair left for us to braid.”

“Alright, alright,” interjects the Keeper just as Lhoris tries to retaliate. “Tamara, I trust you will see that our hunter makes it safely back to his tent? I want you both to have a good night’s rest. I need you both up just before first light, and not a moment later.”

“Yes, Keeper,” nods Tamara respectively and brings Lhoris in as she wraps her arm around his side. “Garas, ma vhenan,” and guides a stumbling, semi-drunk Lhoris to his tent as Lana watches them disappear into darkness. 

“Garas.” demands the Keeper and Lana turns to follow.

As Lana reaches the Keepers side, she can immediately sense a great deal of sudden tension in the air. For some reason, the Keeper appears burdened. 

_Something is wrong._

As they reach the Keeper’s tent, Lana always finds herself smirking at the secret runes sewn in the fabric of the tent’s entrance; an old magical technique, so that any conversations within cannot be heard from the outside, ensuring the highest level of privacy. Which Lana always felt to be an overkill, considering they were always amongst their own people. Nevertheless, Lana trusts the Keeper above all things and knows she does everything for the People and their clan.

Lana follows the Keeper into the tent, and admires how organised and tidy it always is. Nothing is ever out of place; to the immediate right of the entrance is a small table with a bowl the Keeper uses to fill with water, so that she can bathe privately. A neatly made bedroll lies in the back right corner, and to the left is a sizeable table with ancient elvhen books, trinkets, magical tomes and parchments. And hanging from the centre, is a yellow gemstone encased in iron, which only illuminates with a simple enchantment only when the Keeper is present.

The Keeper stops and pauses in the middle of the tent. “Let us sit,” and with a simple gesture, the head of the Keeper’s staff illuminates with the familiar earthy-green magic as she murmurs, “ _Alas’nan._ ”

Lana watches moderately sized roots expel from the ground, and turn into two stumpy stools. The Keeper takes her seat and rests her staff against the table on the left. Lana follows suit, taking the other stool for herself.

Once reasonably comfortable, Lana notices the Keeper aggressively studying her, causing Lana to shift nervously as she asks gravely, “What’s going on Keeper? What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

The Keeper continues to glare at Lana, her stare hardening more and more each passing moment before eventually answering quietly, but sternly, “There is no other way for me to say this… than to say it plainly, da’len.”

Lana holds her breath in anticipation as the Keeper divulges the reason for her tense and pensive behaviour.

“Earlier this evening, I received word back from a clan in Ferelden - clan Alassan. The Divine, the shem’s holy teacher, is holding a meeting between the Circle mages and the Templar Order,” the Keeper pauses and releases a soft, heavy sigh. “I need you to go to Ferelden and secretly attend this meeting.”

_“What?”_

“I know we do not normally trouble ourselves with the shems,” insists the Keeper, remaining stern in her delivery. “Least of all with their troubles. Nevertheless, I fear that the war amongst the Templars and Circle mages will affect us greatly, and as Keeper of this clan I cannot ignore the looming threat against our people.”

“But that’s in _Ferelden!_ ” wails Lana in protest as she flails her arms around. “How is that our problem? We’re all the way here on the other side of the Waking Sea! It won’t affect us!”

Remaining quiet and calm, the Keeper corrects Lana, “No, da’len. It’s everywhere,” and turns her gaze away as she shakes her head. “You know what happened at Kirkwall, and this feud is the very reason we had to move camp in the first place. Which was not that long ago,” looking back up to regard Lana with fierce eyes. “We will find ourselves ill-prepared if we do not get ahead of what is being decided at this meeting. We might have to leave the Free Marches completely and find ourselves in lands unknown. Or perhaps, if we’re lucky, we can manoeuvre around the chaos, and we can stay within the Marchers. Nevertheless, until the meeting convenes and you return with a report, I cannot make a decision.”

“But why _me?_ ” cries Lana as she desperately fights to change the Keeper’s mind. “I’ve never travelled so far from our camp before! Why can’t clan Alassan deliver the report to us? Why do _I_ have to go all the way _there?_ I’m no hunter like Lhoris! Even Tamara would fare better than me! She’s at least met with shems.”

“I have invoked a Vir Sulevanin with clan Alassan - they are helping us in exchange for a price they still have yet to name. And I suspect the reason for their silence is because they want to see how much trouble this task will be for them first.”

“But Keeper,” shouts Lana with protective rage. “How could you agree to this? I would rather have made it to Ferelden on my own then have you agree to this Vir Sulevanin on such boundless terms. They could ask anything of you now and you would have to comply! And how did you even manage to find clan Alassan in the first place? I thought the clans kept to themselves until Arlathvhen.” 

The Keeper smirks at Lana’s overprotective nature as she calmly answers, “Their Keeper - Keeper Zatlen - and I go back many, many years and both know the limit when it comes to a Vir Sulevanin. You needn’t worry about clan Alassan. And the reason I could find clan Alassan, is because both Keeper Zatlen and I have managed to acquire a map of Thedas. We have over the years, in secret, been using them to periodically inform the other of our clan’s location. We have been informing each other of any significant news that the one feels the other should know. However, that doesn’t change the fact that Keeper Zatlen, like so many of our brothers and sisters, refuses to get involved with anything that involves shems. So, the only way to get Keeper Zatlen to co-operate was to-”

“-Invoke a Vir Sulevanin…”

Lana buries her head in her hands and releases a loud, audible sigh. With Lana’s gaze now turned away, and genuine agony slapped across her face, the Keeper realises that Lana doesn’t need her Keeper, Lana needs the woman who raised her since she was a little girl.

And so, The Keeper takes Lana’s hands and murmurs, “El’lana… mir da’vhenan… I know you believe you are not good enough to lead our clan. I see it in your eyes, everyday. You are far too hard on yourself, just like your papae used to be,” pulling Lana in closer, the Keeper manages to obtain her distressed gaze. “But you have your mamae’s _fire_ within you. I have raised you since their passing, as if _I_ were the one who birthed you. I know what you are capable of and _you can do this_ ,” taking one hand, the Keeper cups Lana’s cheek. “You _must_ do this.”

Lana clears her throat as she ponders the momentous task supposedly asked of her. Asked not only by her Keeper, but by the woman who raised her. 

Hesitantly, Lana removes herself from the Keeper’s gentle grasp, “Ir abelas Keeper, I would do anything for you…. but this… this is too much. You ask too much of me,” and stands to pace the tent. “I’ve never left our clan before and I’ve only seen shems in passing. I sometimes get lost trying to make my way back to our _own_ home! And now you want me to travel? To Ferelden? On my own? No, I can’t,” Lana decidedly adverts her gaze so that she may wilfully ignore the inevitable disappointment in the Keeper’s eyes. “ _I can’t do it._ ” 

The Keeper sighs as she stands to take Lana gently, but firmly by the shoulders, “El’lana listen to me, I know what I am asking you to do is a lot for you, and I wish there was another way,” 

Lana’s face begins to redden as her eyes fill with fearful and frightened tears, realising that this is in fact, not something she can say ‘no’ too. She knows the Keeper would never use the words directly, but the Keeper was in fact invoking a Vir Sulevanin, of sorts, with Lana as well. Except, the only thing Lana would want in return was to not go in the first place. 

And so, the Keeper pauses to wipe away an escaped tear, just like any mother would do when comforting their distressed child, and whispers. “Nevertheless, attending this meeting is imperative to ensuring the safety of the clan. If I were half the age I am now I would go myself, but unfortunately these tired old bones don’t get me very far these days. And as you know, Lhoris is needed here to hunt and Tamara to trade. There is no one else I trust more. It has to be you, da’len.”

Lana holds her breath as she scrunches her eyes shut, “It’s just… it’s so scary,” and opens them to regard the Keeper with tears running from her wide, lavender eyes and down her flushed cheeks. “I’m afraid… I’m afraid I’ll fail you. That I’ll fail the People. I’m afraid of what’s out there.”

The Keeper brings Lana in for a motherly embrace, gently swaying them both from side to side, “Shhh… ar dirth’ma, mir da’vhenan, ar dirth’ma. Your fear will keep you wary of travelers along the way and that will keep you safe. This journey will show you that you are capable of so much more than you give yourself credit for. I know you will come back stronger and wiser,” the Keeper takes Lana by the shoulders, leans her back slightly, and looks in her eyes with sincere pride and a gentle smile. “And you will see what I’ve _always_ seen in you.”

Lana sniffs loudly with a bashful smile and nods slightly, “Ma nuvenin, Keeper. Ar dirth’ma. I will go.”

The Keeper releases an audible sigh of relief, “I’m glad to hear it, da’len,” and turns around to sit on her makeshift, root-stump stool. “I would not ask you to take on such a journey and delicate mission if I doubted for even one moment that you would not succeed.”

With Lana now agreeing to travel on such a treacherous journey, alone, she had questions. _A lot_ of questions.

So, Lana begins with the most pressing and logical one first, “So, when do I leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“ _Tomorrow?!_ ”

“Apologises for the haste da’len, but Hahren Zelphar informed me only this evening with the latest intelligence, and according to clan Alassan, I’m afraid the meeting will take place within a fortnight. We cannot delay your departure.”

“But, Keeper!” cries Lana as she feels herself begin to panic. The news of leaving in only a matter of hours causes Lana’s head to spin, and she starts feeling nauseous.

The Keeper takes Lana by the hands, forcibly pulling her in closer, “El’lana, look at me,” and Lana snaps out of her hysteria to heed the Keeper’s words. “I need you to focus. Nothing good will come from this meeting. I can feel it in my _bones_.”

“But Keeper, how will I even get here? You haven’t given me any time to prepare for this journey! I don’t have any coin, or change of clothes or even food!”

The Keeper releases Lana from her grip. “Do not trouble yourself, I have already made all the preparations for you,” and to Lana’s surprise, the Keeper leans over the table to grab a large rolled-up parchment. 

The Keeper stands to lay the parchment down on the table in front of them and releases the string holding it together. As the Keeper carefully opens up the parchment, revealing its contents to lay bare across the table, Lana gasps in awe as she recognises the markings on the parchment to be one of a map, “I believe,” continues the Keeper as she places her index finger on the map. “We are somewhere here within this region of the forest,” and using her finger as a guide. “You will travel south with Ilmael and Sowen to this cravis here within the Vinmark Mountains. From there they will leave you and head back home. You will go south-east along the coast to Kirkwall’s harbour. It won’t be more than a day’s travel by foot,”

While concentrating on the Keeper’s every word, Lana still can’t help but wonder how and when the Keeper got hold of such a precious item. 

“Then you are to go straight to a tavern by the water’s edge which I believe is called, _Rucket’s Ridge_ , and that is where a city elf by the name of Taewen will find you. He will provide you with a change of clothes, food and a place to sleep for the night. Now, you will need to get on a ship and the only way to do so is to have Taewen sneak you in as,” the Keeper clears her throat. “As a man.”

Lana snorts out an uncontrollable giggle, “Ir abelas, Keeper. Did you say… ‘as a man’?”

The Keeper sighs, “I did, yes. If you are discovered, as a young woman, I’m afraid of… well, the shems are known to take advantage of our kind in many different ways, da’len. Especially women.”

With no further explanation needed, Lana shakes her head, “Right. Of course. Ar dirth’ma.”

“Good. Now, once Taewen safely smuggles you onto the ship as another one of their elven, male workers, you will need only to keep your head down and not speak to anyone - not even the elves. So, pretend you are mute.”

“What about my vallaslin, Keeper? Whether I am male or female, surely my vallaslin will give me away as an outsider?”

“I’ve already arranged for that, too. You must paint over your vallaslin,” Lana attempts to interjet with concern but the Keeper raises her hand with assurity. “The gods will understand. As you have already realised, a Dalish elf on a shem’s ship is not something one sees everyday, and I do not want you to stand out. You need to blend in as best you can. You understand?”

“Yes, Keeper. But how will Taewen know who to look for? We’ve never met.”

“The city’s Hahren, Serel, has asked you to wear this necklace which needs to lay atop your clothes,” the Keeper opens a tiny, wooden chest and hands Lana what appears to be the symbolic tree of Mythal etched on a tiny, coin-sized, iron disk. “Just put it on before entering the tavern, find an empty table and wait for Taewen to find you. You will also give Taewen this,” The Keeper hands Lana an ironbark knife. “He will see to it that Hahren Serel receives it. This is payment for their assistance. Do not lose this.”

“Yes, Keeper.”

“Now, as I’ve mentioned before, keep to yourself while at sea da’len, which should be no more than one nights rest. The shems that manage these ships are not like the ones Tamara and the others deal with. These are brutal, cruel men and they won’t think twice about throwing an elf such as yourself overboard if you look at them the wrong way,”

As Lana nods along assuredly at the Keepers’ warnings as she drapes the necklace over her head and rests the blade gently on her lap.

“Once across, I have asked clan Alassan to guide you from Fereldan’s coastline to where the meeting will take place. I believe they are holding the meeting at a sacred temple in our people’s history - the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The shems have laid to rest the ashes of their beloved Andraste. It is a very holy place to the shems.”

“How is this temple sacred to our People? And how will I know who to look for? Do I wear the necklace?”

“Ir abelas mir da’vhenan, there isn’t time to explain this temple’s history to you. I will explain when you return. With clan Alassan, I have described your appearance in detail and told them to use this phrase when they approach you, _‘Sulevin ghilana hanin’_ to which you will reply, _‘Melana en athim las enaste’_. Repeat to me what you will hear.”

“Sulevin ghilana hanin.”

“And what will you say in return?”

“Melana en athim las enaste.”

“Good. Repeat those phrases to yourself as many times as necessary. Now, when it’s time to head to the temple, you will wear shem clothing, provided by clan Alassan, and sneak into this meeting so that you may gather as much information as possible. Once it’s over, clan Alassan will guide you all the way back to Fereldan’s coast, where Taewen will meet you once again and sneak you back onboard a ship. Once you’re back in Kirkwall’s harbour, head back the way you came before, and our hunter’s will meet you at the forest’s edge.”

“Keeper, I can’t believe you organised all of this. I mean, I’m not surprised because you’re amazing, but I’m still impressed. Ma serannas.”

“Of course, da’len. However, there is one last thing. What I am about to say is the most important thing above _all_.”

“Yes?”

“No one can know you are a mage. _No one_. You must _never_ use your magic for anything. Not even to help others. Even if you come across a little one with a deadly wound you know you can heal. Not then. Not ever. You understand?”

Lana swallows hard and nods. Forcing herself to harden at the idea of not helping others should such a situation present itself.

_Not even to save a child…_

“I need you to say to me you understand, El’lana.”

“Yes, Keeper. I understand.”

The Keeper visibly relaxes as she hunches over and her shoulders drop, indicating that all the serious topics of their conversation have been discussed. Her duty as a Keeper fulfilled.

Lana on the other hand is only more tense, and the weight of her responsibility weighing hard on her shoulders. Lana straightens her back in obedience and looks deep into the Keeper’s eyes, “I will not fail you. I will not fail the People.”

“I know you won’t, da’len,” and the Keeper leans forward to take Lana by the sides of her face and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead before slowly sitting back down, “Your parents would be so proud of you. _I_ am so proud of you, mir da’vhenan,” The Keeper’s eyes begin to mist. “You bring great honour to our clan. Mythal’enaste.”

“Ma serannas, Keeper. Mythal’enaste,” murmurs Lana as she returns the sentiment. “You are my family. My everything. And I already countdown the days before I am with you again.”

The Keeper’s smile widens and after a silent, brief moment between them, the Keeper murmurs, “Go rest, da’len. You have a big journey ahead of you tomorrow and you need a good night’s sleep. Leave the knife with me, I will prepare your pack tonight,” Lana and the Keeper stand and make their way out of the tent. “Despite the efforts I have already made in preparation for your journey, I know you will worry regardless. But please, mir da’vhenan, take to heart that I have done everything I can in preparation for your journey. You need only to walk it.”

Lana smiles sincerely and takes the Keeper gently by the hand, “Ma serannas, Keeper. I know you have done everything in your power to keep me from harm, and ensuring this mission is a success. I trust you more than life itself. Sleep well, Keeper. I will see you in the morning.”

“Sleep well, da’len. May the gods watch over you.”

**_Elvish to English Translation:_ **

  * _“Garas da’lenen”_ = Come on, children.
  * _“Mir falon”_ = my friend
  * _“Garas, ma vhenan”_ = Come on, my love.
  * _“Mir da’vhenan”_ = My little-heart
  * _“Ar dirth’ma, mir da’vhenan, ar dirth’ma”_ = I understand, my little-heart, I understand.
  * _“Ma nuvenin, Keeper. Ar dirth’ma”_ = As you say, Keeper. I understand.
  * _“Ir abelas mir da’vhenan”_ = I’m sorry, my little-heart.
  * _“Sulevin ghilana hanin”_ = The knights purpose is to guide you.
  * _“Melana en athim las enaste”_ = Now let humility grant favor.
  * _“Mythal’enaste”_ = Mythal’s favour




	4. Clan Lavellan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Keeper Deshanna’s First, El'lana Aemma Lavellan is sent on her first diplomatic mission, which lies far beyond the familiarity of the Free Marches and her clan. The only home she has ever known.

As Lana begins to open her restless eyes, she can hear the morning birds sing their usual songs in the trees above, and the halla stirring in their pens. 

The cold morning chill sends shivers down Lana’s spine as she slowly and quietly gets out of her bedroll. She then notices Tamara’s bed is empty. Catching her eye, Lana spots the morning sun creeping through a small gap in the tent’s entry flap and immediately panics as she realises it’s almost passed first light.

_Shit!_

Suddenly Tamara opens the tent, and both young women lock eyes appearing visibly worn and distressed. 

“Tammy?” whispers Lana from across the tent in confusion as she tries not to wake Brilora and Lawyn. “What’s wrong? Why are you up so early?”

Tammy ignores Lana’s questions and rushes to her side, wrapping her arms around her as she whispers, “The Keeper told me everything. She said that you need to go to Ferelden and you would be away for at least a _month_ ,” Tamara pulls herself away, and frightfully glares at Lana with a red nose and flushed cheeks. “She told me you’re going to some temple? To spy on the shems? _Alone?_ ”

“Well…” Lana pauses as she tries to find a better way to describe the situation. Some other way lighten the mood between them. But unfortunately for Lana, pretence isn’t her forfeit, and instead settles with her default approach - honesty. “Yes. That is essentially what I’m doing. Yes.” 

“I’m going with you.” 

“Ir abelas, mir falon. You know I would take you with me if I could,” Tamara looks away with a deep-set frown and releases an irritated huff. “Tammy… please, don’t make this harder than it already is. Trust the Keeper. Trust in me.”

Tamara remains still, and quietly contemplates on her friends words. Then in a slight shift in mood, and with her bright, emerald eyes, she takes her lifelong friend’s hands, “Ir abelas. Ar dirth’ma. Of course, I trust you and the Keeper. The Keeper has told me everything she’s done for you in preparation for this journey, and I’m sure everything will be… fine. I just wish we had more time together so that I could teach you all about shems, dwarves and even our lost cousins - the city elves.” 

Lana manages a meek smile in response, and Tamara returns the same mild grin as both friends try to mask their true fears for the sake of the other.

“Well,” chimes Lana, in an attempt to relieve them both from their anxiety. “The plan is for me to blend in and not get noticed, right? So, if I’m doing everything the Keeper says I must, then there should be very little to almost no interaction with the shems. As far as city elves go, I still consider them to be elvhen. And as you _also_ know, I will be guided through Ferelden by clan Alassan to _and_ from the temple.”

Tamara’s smile improves as she begins to feel slightly more assured of her friend’s safety, “I suppose you’re right,” and with a slight tap on the back of Lana’s hand, Tamara stands. “I should be getting back to the Keeper. I was sent to make sure you were awake as you should have already been on your way,” 

Tamara quietly shuffles her way to the tent’s exit, passing Brilora and Lawyn in their bedrolls. But just before leaving, Tamara turns around to regard Lana from across the tent. For a brief moment, Tamara considers telling her friend, whom she considers to be a sister, how much she feared for her and how big the world outside of the clan really is.

But instead, Tamara settles for an empathetic grin, “I’ll let you get ready.” and turns to leave, closing the tent behind her. 

“Ma serannas…” murmurs Lana under her breath once Tamara is out of earshot.

Lana takes in a deep breath to help relieve the nerves as she begins hesitantly, and quietly changing into her clothes. Reminding herself that she must not take her staff. 

Lana steps out the tent and is momentarily blinded by the morning sunlight breaking through the leaves and tree canopy above. As Lana begins to make her way to the Keeper’s tent, she suddenly finds herself noticing, and appreciating, all the little things about her home. 

The loud yawns and hushed conversations within the surrounding tents as the clan begin to slowly wake. The halla stirring around in their pen as they wait for the halla Keeper to release them. The aravels covered in the morning dew as they stand proud with their red and white striped sails, and even the delicate water jars and pots made by their crafter seem to catch Lana’s undivided attention. 

Suddenly, everything about her home from the drying herbs in the lower branches to the sound of the halla’s happy bleats as they are released from their pen starts to gnaw at her heart.

Lana reaches the Keeper’s tent and stops in her tracks as she is not only greeted by the Keeper, but a somber Tamara, Ilmael and Sowen - her assigned hunter escorts - and a surprisingly distressed Lhoris. 

“Good morning, da’len,” announces the Keeper. “I hope you got enough rest. I’ve informed Tamara and Lhoris of your departure this morning, as I know you would have wanted to say your goodbyes before you left.” 

“Ma serannas, Keeper,” Lana walks closer to the group standing before her but can’t help but impulsively make quick side glances at Lhoris, who has never appeared so grieved before in his life. “Ir abelas, for missing first light. I didn’t get much sleep. But I’m ready now,” Lana regards Ilmael and Sowen with a soft smile. “Ma serannas for taking me through the forest and to the mountain’s pass. I really appreciate it.” 

“Of course, Lana.” chimes Sowen with a slight respectful bow.

“We wouldn’t want you to get lost like you always do.” quips Ilmael causing Sowen to softly laugh in return. 

“Hey!” barks Lhoris with violent anger. “You will make sure El gets to where she needs to be safely or so help me… I will Vir Tanadhal you both all the way to Falon’Din.”

Both hunters perk up and Ilmael, the shorter of the two, submissively murmurs, “Yes, Lhoris. Ir abelas, Lana.” 

“That’s okay, Ilmael.” 

“Ma serannas for your input Lhoris,” remarks the Keeper. “I’m sure Ilmael and Sowen will take good care of our Lana for us. While you three say your goodbyes, I will take Ilmael and Sowen with me as I wish to discuss the day’s route,” The Keeper turns her gaze to the two hunters. “Garas, you two. Let us leave them be for the moment.”

Lana walks closer towards her friends and looks up at Lhoris compassionately who is avoiding any eye contact with her, and then turns to Tamara who is holding a rucksack in her arms. 

“Everything you need is in this bag,” announces Tamara as she hands the bag over to Lana. “The Keeper said it has everything you need, as well as the knife? I’m sure you know what that means.”

Lana reaches for the rucksack, “Ma serannas, Tammy.” and proceeds to place it on her back as the two friends continue to stare at each other longingly. With no words left between them, the two friends share a brief, quiet moment before simultaneously leaping forward for an emotional embrace.

“I am going to miss you both _so much_ ,” murmurs Lana. “I’ll find some ink and parchment so that I can write down my journey. When I return, I will be able to read them to you.”

“That’s a great idea!” cries Tamara as she releases her friend. “I can’t wait to hear about all the things you’ve seen. You’ll be able to tell us how cold Ferelden _really_ is. And you’re even going to see the ocean!”

“Oh yes, that’s true!” giggles Lana excitedly. “I hadn’t even realised. That is pretty exciting.” 

As the girls’ laughs fade, Lana turns her gaze back to Lhoris who has continued to remain reserved the entire time.

“Lhoris?” murmurs Lana with concern as she approaches him.

“Vhenan?” chimes Tamara as she takes him by the arm. “It’s going to be okay. The Keeper has prepared everything, and you know how cautious Lana is. She’ll be fine.” 

Lhoris peers down towards his beloved, and with a forceful, taciturn expression he eventually acknowledges the two concerned women around him, “Ar dirth’ma, vhenan.” and turns to Lana with a meek smile.

Noticing Lhoris’s guard to protect himself from spiralling emotionally, she decides that perhaps initiating an embrace from her closest, and dearest friend, would only cause him more pain. In fact, perhaps it was best if things were left more casually between them. Dragging out their goodbyes would just make leaving that much harder, and the journey that much more arduous. Nevertheless, would one single hug from her friend be so terrible? Would that cause her to literally run in the other direction and refuse to go? 

Instead, she simply offers a safe, sincere smile in return. 

“Okay, well…” announces Lana with false confidence. “I’ll see you both soon. Dareth shiral.”

“Dareth shiral, Lana.” murmurs Tammy as she strokes the side of Lana’s arm. 

Looking out ahead of her, Lana walks past her friends and forces herself to not look back. Instead, she keeps her head down and fixes her gaze on her footsteps, ensuring she’s taking one step at a time. As she can feel her home almost truly behind her, she begins to fiddle with the ring on her finger that Tamara had given her only yesterday. Without her staff, she now has nothing to keep her hands busy to calm the nerves.

Coming up over a small hill, Lana notices the silhouettes of the Keeper at the fringes of the forest as she’s still talking to Ilmael and Sowen. 

Suddenly, Lana is almost knocked off her feet as someone grabs her from behind. Before she can even react, she is forcefully spun around and brought even closer, her face buried into their chest.

“You be safe - _you hear me?_ ” cries Lhoris. “Creators Lana… if you get yourself killed… I will… I will…” Lhoris grabs Lana by the shoulders and brings her out in front of him. “I will find you in the Beyond and Vir Tanadhal _you_ all the way-”

“Lhoris-”

“Just promise me, El,” barks Lhoris with furrowed brows and distressed eyes. “Promise me you will watch out for yourself. Watch out for those shems and trust _nobody_ , okay? Not even those dirty, city elves. I know you have this weird soft-spot for them. Creators… if you don’t come back-”

“Lhoris!” Lana grabs hold of his arms with a firm grip. “It’s going to be okay. Trust the Keeper, and trust _me_. I’ll be back in time to help you and Tammy with all the ceremony preparations. Don’t worry. We’ll all be together, again soon. I promise.”

Lhoris pulls away from Lana’s grip and throws his hands in the air, “How could you _possibly_ know that, Lana? Anything could happen! You could fall into a hole. You could be thrown overboard by those shem bastards. Clan Alassan could “lose” you in the Fereldan forests-”

“Lhoris…”

“You could be murdered by bandits-”

“Lhoris…”

“A… a _dragon_ could come down and feed you to its little baby dragons!”

“Lhoris! Stop! You’re freaking me out! You know me better than anybody, and you know how scared I am right now. I won’t do anything risky or stupid.”

Lhoris stops and looks down at Lana. His mannerism subtly turned from a panic-stricken state to being wholly serious, “Promise?”

Lana takes a deep breath and looks deep into her friend’s eye, “I promise. _From the tallest tree, to the deepest waters._ ”

Lhoris sighs as he drops his head with a heavy heart and sincere smile, “ _I will trust you all the way,_ little sister.”

Ever since Lana and Lhoris were children playing together in the forest, they always found themselves in numerous occasions where the situation might suddenly be proven treacherous. Lhoris was the kind of person who would act first before thinking, and Lana would think before acting. Given their different natures, sometimes they would need to trust the other completely on the rare occasion that would require complete faith in the other to see them both survive. When such a situation would arise, the one requesting the trust of the other would say ‘from the tallest trees, to the deepest waters’, and the one giving their trust would respond with ‘I will trust you all the way’.

It was something only the two of them shared. Not even Tamara knew about it. It was something they had made as a pack many years ago, and something they only said occasionally. So, when the words were said it was a moment onto itself, and something neither one took lightly. It required one to trust the other completely, without compromise. Complete faith in the other to see them both through something perilous. 

Lhoris takes Lana in for a gentler embrace and releases a deep breath, “Ar dirth’ma. Ir abelas. You are… well, you know. It’s just… you’re sort-of like my family and-” 

Lana playfully pushes herself away and snorts, “Sort-of like?”

Rolling his eyes, Lhoris decides that if he were to ever say what Lana meant to him, now would be the time, “Agh! Okay, fine. Yes! You are my family, and I love you, and I want you to come home. Okay? There. I said it.” 

Lana releases a soft smile, “Ar lath ma, Lhoris.” and brings her friend in for a gentle embrace.

“Lana!” cries the Keeper in the distance. 

The two friends part and Lana turns to wave at the Keeper in acknowledgement, “Coming!”

Lana turns back around, and without the need to say anything else, she settles for an appropriate play-punch to his shoulder, and Lhoris pretends to wince at the pain. 

“Bye, El. Dareth shiral.”

“Dareth shiral, Lhoris.”

**_Elvish to English Translation:_ **

  * _“Ir abelas, mir falon”_ = I’m sorry, my friend
  * _“Ir abelas. Ar dirth’ma”_ = I’m sorry. I understand
  * _“Ma serannas”_ = Thank you
  * _“Vir Tanadhal”_ = Way of the Three Trees
  * _“Garas, you two”_ = Come one, you two
  * _“Ar dirth’ma, vhenan”_ = I understand, heart
  * _“Dareth shiral”_ = farewell/ safe journey
  * _“Ar lath ma, Lhoris”_ = I love you, Lhoris




End file.
